The Gift
by coolbyrne
Summary: It's Maura's Special Day! Jane makes sure she knows how special it is.


TITLE: The Gift

AUTHOR: coolbyrne

RATING: T (It's a story with adults. I dunno.)

SUMMARY: It's Maura's Special Day! Jane makes sure she knows how special it is.

A/N: I could write notes here as long as the fic. In a nutshell, I am absolutely starved to know more about these two characters, and hopefully, with a new show runner and a writing team in season 5, we might get scenes like this story. I don't need declarations of love (though that'd be nice) or a big kiss scene (though that'd be really nice); just some damn depth and continuity, please.

I hope you'll YouTube "Moonlight Sonata" at some point in this fic (before, after, during), just to get an idea of where I've put Jane's mindset in this story. It just seemed to... fit. My wife and beta reader, Roman_Machine, was the impetus for this fic, so this one's for you.

...

She was always more of a giver than a receiver. While giving allowed her to quietly reflect on her feelings at a later date, receiving things always opened her up to emotional responses that she was never sure she was pinning down correctly. Should she be exuberantly happy? Pleasantly surprised? Genuinely confused? Unfortunately for her and her inability to lie, it often seemed to be the latter, and even she knew that was never the response the person wanted.

So when her birthday came and she arrived at the precinct, she wasn't certain how to approach the day. She had practiced her smiles in the mirror that morning, but none had been to her satisfaction. Perhaps she was worrying for nothing, she told herself. Perhaps the day would go by without recognition from her co-workers and this was all for naught.

Turning the corner into her office, she stopped in the doorway and laughed. Of course they wouldn't forget. And of course, they would find a way to show her without putting her on the spot. On her desk was an assortment of colourful boxes and a single helium balloon, emblazoned with the words, "Happy Birthday!" that was attached to a small cupcake. She walked up and read the index card that was leaning against the dessert.

'Korsak may or may not have tested the icing for you. Feel free to enjoy the gluten-free cookies Ma made. No one touched those.'

Maura smiled when she saw what appeared to be a clear finger scoop of icing removed from the top. Taking inventory of the gifts on her desk, she picked up the envelope that clearly had Susie Chang's handwriting on the back. Carefully peeling back the flap, she pulled out what looked to be some kind of ticket. The note inside explained it all.

_Dr. Isles,_

_This is a season pass for you and a guest for the Western Massachusetts Nudist Gathering. It includes hiking, swimming and camping. I thought maybe you and Detective Rizzoli might want to join us sometime, or even just go by yourselves. Enjoy, and happy birthday!_

_-Susie_

Maura's smile grew into a full-blown laugh. She could convince the detective to do just about anything- yoga, kale, the Massachusetts Marathon, but even she thought she'd be hard-pressed to get Jane to a nudist resort. Not that she was ever one to back down from a challenge...

Setting that thought aside, she picked up the small box beside an envelope addressed _To: Dr. Isles, From: Vince_. It was heavier than she anticipated, and she placed it back on the desk to unwrap it, discovering it was a challenge of a different sort: a wooden puzzle box in the shape of a tortoise. She held it up again, carefully balancing it in the palm of her hand. Of course Sergeant Korsak would get her something that was not only animal-related, reflecting his interests, but mentally stimulating, reflecting hers. As she turned it around in her hand, she made a note not to mention she'd already come up with the solution.

The largest box on the table appeared to be from Detective Frost. The size and shape confused her, as it was much longer than it was wide, but the perimeter was a perfect square. A rectangular object of at least 32 inches, but narrow. And much lighter than she expected a box of that size to weigh. She began to carefully peel back the tape, but hesitated as she looked around the office. Assured she was alone, she ripped away the wrap in a flourish that would have made Jane proud. She marvelled at how satisfying it felt, though she probably wouldn't admit it out loud.

"Oh!" Maura exclaimed when she unveiled the gift- it was an aluminum bat. As did Susie, Frost included a note of explanation.

_Hey Dr. Isles, softball season starts in 6 months, so I thought I'd give you a hand. I guessed at your height and weight, so I hope this fits you better than the ones you used at the last game. Actually, my mom picked this one out for you, so it's probably okay. She told me to say 'Happy Birthday' to you, so, 'Happy Birthday' to you, from my mom, and from me. You can play on my team anytime. -Barry_

She wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye and picked up the bat. It was lighter and smaller than the one she'd used before, and when she got into her full optimal batting stance, she felt like she could take on the world. It was perfect.

Only one thing remained unopened: a pink envelope, with a simple 'M' written on the back. She'd debating on opening it first, but got caught up in the anticipation of leaving it to the end. So with slightly trembling hands, she opened her last gift. It was the most garish birthday card she had ever seen. "Happy Birthday to a Special Girl!" it screamed in shades of colour Maura wasn't sure were even on the wheel. Pinned to the outside was an equally eye-watering button that announced, "It's My Special Day!"

_This card just screams 'Maura Dorthea Isles', doesn't it? _said the short, scrawled note. _I hope you know you're special every day, not just today. Love, J._

_P.S. Frankie and Tommy want you to come to the Robber later to give you their gift. The bullpen pool is giving odds that it's a stripper. You've been warned._

As much as it made her smile, she had to admit she expected... more? She even checked the envelope again, just to make sure, but no, it held nothing but the card. She fingered the button and gave a small uncertain shake of her head. Every other gift had been one of thought and consideration; Jane's card seemed so anti-climactic. Pulling the button off the paper, she pinned it to her lab coat and found a temporary home for the rest of the gifts. With a clear desk and a sigh, she sat down and pulled a file folder from the stack that never ended.

...

"Maura, c'mon!" the brunette whined from the doorway. "Everyone's gonna get there before us, and I've got ten bucks on it being a stripper." Maura appeared with a collection of her birthday goodies and Jane saw the bat sticking out of a bag. "Ooh, that's nice!"

Maura swatted her hand away. "And it's not yours. Anyway, I don't know what you're worried about - they won't start the stripper without me."

"They will if it's a female."

"Oh." The thought never occurred to the pathologist. "Well, I suppose we should hurry then."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "A female stripper gets you moving, huh?"

She sighed. "Jane, let's just go."

"Everything okay?"

The duo walked out of the office and Maura made sure the lights were turned off. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Jane guided her to the elevator and shrugged. "I dunno. You just seem a little down considering it's your birthday."

"Why would I be down?"

"Uh-oh," the detective said. "It's a bad sign when you start answering with questions."

"I'm fine." She clenched the bag as they entered the elevator. "I'm fine."

Jane gave her a sidelong look but didn't pursue the subject. Instead, she snapped her fingers. "Can we stop at my place first? I got syrup on my shirt this morning." She looked down at the offending stain. "Damn bunny pancakes."

...

"Come on up," she said as they pulled up to her apartment building.

"No, it's okay, I can wait."

Jane frowned. "You haven't seen Jo in ages. She misses you."

"I'll come up next time, I promise."

Doing all but stomping her foot in the car, Jane whined, "Mauraaaaaa!"

Her pout caught Maura by surprise. Throwing her hands in the air, she acquiesed. "My goodness, Jane. Fine, I'll come up."

When they got outside Jane's door, Maura couldn't help but notice a change in the brunette's demeanour - her eyes darted back and forth, and she squeezed her hands together repeatedly. Maura put her hands over them to settle her. "Are you all right?"

"Do you trust me, Maura?"

It wasn't the answer she expected. "Now you're answering with questions." Maura frowned when it didn't get the smile she had intended. "Of course, I trust you, Jane. I trust you with my life. How can you ask me that?" The taller woman reached into her pocket for her keys, but pulled out something else in the process, something that suspiciously looked like a blindfold. Maura's eyes narrowed. "There isn't a large group of people on the other side of this door who are going to surprise me, is there?"

Now, Jane smiled. "No. But Ma's ready to be deployed for Mission: Surprise Birthday Party if that's what you want."

"No, thank you." She thought again. "Is the stripper here?"

"No."

"Have you not picked up all your dirty laundry? I told you how unsan-"

"Maura!"

"What?"

She held out the blindfold. "Will you just put this on?"

The blonde hesitated for a moment but took the item from Jane and slipped it over her eyes. She heard rather than saw the detective put the key into the lock and so waited patiently. A hand touched her forearm to lead her into the apartment. With tentative steps, Maura walked through the threshold and stood while Jane closed and locked the door behind them.

"Sit here," Jane directed, and gently pushed her down into a chair.

"You have a lovely touch," Maura commented.

"Sorry?"

"When one sense is impaired or removed, the other senses become heightened in response," she explained. "Without the use of my sight, I notice other things. You're very gentle."

"Uh, thanks?"

"You're welcome."

Jane shook her head. "Anyway, I know you'll want to take that off eventually, but just... try and leave it on for now."

She had a hundred questions to ask, but remembered what she had told Jane outside the apartment. "I trust you."

The sound of a chair being scraped across the floor was the only clue given, as Maura strained her remaining senses in an effort to solve the mystery. A light creak must have been Jane sitting on the chair. What the other little noises were- a shuffle, a metal hinge bending, a crack- she couldn't say.

Then five very recognizable notes resonated through the room.

"Oh!" Maura exclaimed happily. "Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14. I love this piece." When her comment received no response, she peeked over her blindfold.

Over the years, she had seen Jane in a number of situations, from laughing with family to fighting off madmen, but she had never once seen her at the piano. She'd suspected the incident with Hoyt had taken that opportunity away. Yet here she was, unruly hair pulled back into a pony tail, head bowed, eyes closed, hands moving with soft intent across black and white keys. Maura brought a hand up to her mouth and silently observed.

...

Jane had closed her eyes, both to help her imagine the music, and because she didn't think she could do this under Maura's inquisitive gaze. She knew she was being watched, but if she could pretend it was just her in the room, playing to no one, she could try and brush the nerves aside and focus on...

_'Patience, Miss Jane,' her piano teacher said. 'This piece requires a great deal of patience, and I'm afraid you don't have it.' Mrs. DiSantini put a comforting arm around her shoulder. 'Don't look so sad, my dear. You play "Fur Elise" so well. I would have thought you'd want to do that for your test. You know your mother loves that one.'_

The piece called for adagio, and according to her teacher, Jane lived her life in vivacissimo. Ma even joked she had come out of the womb that way. But when Mrs. DiSantini saw that the young girl was serious, she allowed her to come to her house an extra day a week to practice for free. So every Thursday at lunch time, Jane would furiously pedal her way to the pale green house at the end of the street, wash her hands (at her teacher's insistence) and practice the seemingly impossible. Guiding her only when she needed musical advice, she let Jane discover the piece on her own.

_'Why this piece so much?' _the teacher once asked, and Jane couldn't quite explain it then, at age thirteen. Now, it seemed obvious. Yes, she could play "Fur Elise" with her eyes closed, probably because it suited her so well. It was quick and passionate like the girl herself. But ultimately, like an emotional outburst, it left her feeling empty. She understood Mrs. DiSantini's surprise at her obsession with 'Moonlight Sonata'- it was so diametrically opposite to Jane. But to a 13-year old, living in a house where emotion was revealed in outbursts, and with a body whose hormones were rebelling against her, it was a soothing balm to the cacophony both inside and out. She lost count of how many times she listened to the piece while she lay in that god awful pink canopy bed, when she thought it would never be anything but her against the world.

Though she didn't want to admit it at the time, her teacher was right; the song required an abundance of patience, something no one would accuse her of having, then or now. She had slammed down the key cover of Mrs. DiSantini's piano so many times, that one day, Jane discovered it had been unscrewed and removed. She only hit her fists on the keys once; the teacher's disappointed gaze shamed her into channeling her anger elsewhere. Her poor thighs were bruised for months.

But it didn't matter how much she practiced or how much she wished it so, the quietness required to play the piece alluded her. In the end, she played "Fur Elise" for her piano test, much to her mother's delight. Mrs. DiSantini congratulated her on such a fine performance and lessons were lined up for the following year. Unfortunately, Jane broke her wrist that summer playing softball, and she never went back. She always wondered if maybe she'd done it on purpose, as a punishment for settling. She had pleased everyone but herself, and the disappointment stung. If she was honest, that disappointment was still there. Years of failing to find the calm within herself, just enough to play a goddamn song, chipped away at her.

Until she met Maura Isles.

It took her forever to realize that it wasn't the doctor's brain or her laugh or even her legs that made Jane never want to let her go. The woman had become her solace. The eye of the storm that was Hurricane Jane. It was an effect she was certain Maura didn't understand she'd had, a gift she herself didn't realize she'd accepted when they first met. Even now, she knew Maura was watching her, likely reciting the history of the piece: composed in 1801 and dedicated to Countess Giuletta Guicciardi; dubbed "Moonlight Sonata" by Ludwig Rellstab; known primarily for its 1st movement. Jane wondered if Maura was quietly lamenting the lack of historical accuracy because of modern piano pedals. Of course she was. Of course she was doing all of these things. But even in that knowledge, Jane found a sense of peace.

She hadn't practiced it, or anything else, since Hoyt. The pain in her hands and her heart wouldn't let her. But, as the weeks lead up to Maura's birthday, something compelled her to try again. So, every night for the last seven weeks, she brushed off invitations to the Dirty Robber or left early when she could and came home to sit in front of her piano. One full hour she promised herself. One full hour every day.

On the first day, she did nothing but stare at the keys. _Who am I kidding? _she had chastized herself. _It's been over 20 years, and I couldn't play it then! _

On the second day, she entertained herself with 30 minutes of "Heart" and 30 minutes of "Soul", and laughed in spite of it all. _A duet for one. Pitiful_.

On the third day, with fingers resting on the keys, she debated until the notes of "Fur Elise" rang out. She hadn't intended on playing it; never thought she would want to play it again. But the shapes were familiar and she needed to start somewhere. When she hit the final key, she was surprised at the tears that welled up in her eyes. It wasn't just a nod to a childhood long passed, but also a reminder of an accomplishment she never allowed herself to accept. The song was a tricky one, and she was sorry she never gave her 13-year old self the credit she'd deserved.

On the fourth day, her hands were so damn sore she could barely type out a report. That song _was_ damn tricky, and her fingers protested the rediscovered activity. In fact, she ended up getting Frost to do all her typing by promising him he could drive for the rest of the week. That evening, she fulfilled her 60 minutes with the index-challenging "Chopsticks".

On the fifth day, she forcefully placed a brand new metronome on top of her piano, sat down, and with a trepidation she'd never admit to, played that first chord.

On the sixth day, she removed the cover to her piano keys, having inadvertantly caught her middle finger under it in a fit of frustration. She had to tell Maura she jammed it in the cupboard door that morning, reaching for a coffee cup. Everyone knew what Jane was like before her morning caffeine, so the lie was easily accepted.

And on the seventh day, and every day thereafter, she had practiced this song. Over and over...wondering if the metronome was actually going faster as the song went on...realizing, _No, no it's still me_. The metronome went into the trash. Three days before the doctor's birthday, her picture took its place on top of the piano, and the song and Jane's heart finally found a common ground. Now, the picture had been replaced by the real thing, sitting not five feet away.

The repeated two chords ended the piece, and the notes reverberated throughout the otherwise silent room. Jane let her fingers rest on the keys, as if giving one final touch of thanks. After the quiet benediction, she turned to straddle the bench, though she didn't look at Maura. Instead, she looked down at her hands and took a deep breath.

"I've never played that for anybody. Ever."

Maura lowered a shaking hand from her lips and rose from her chair. In three steps, she was beside Jane on the bench, her arms wrapped tightly around the taller woman.

"Hey! Oh, okay," Jane said, momentarily confused. Though startled by the sudden affection, she immediately returned the gesture.

Their embrace went on forever, and yet seemed to end too soon. Maura gently pulled back, her head lowered. Trying to see the face that was partially covered by thick blonde hair, Jane reached up and brushed aside an errant strand.

"Hey!" she exclaimed again. "Are you crying? Why are you crying?"

Without care or concern, Maura leaned into the hand and closed her eyes, savouring the touch. Fingers that had created such beauty not five minutes ago were now stroking her face with an affection that made her heart ache. When she finally opened her eyes, she knew she could only ever answer truthfully.

"No one's ever given me something so wonderful."

"Aw, Maura," Jane whispered as she brushed away a tear from the woman's cheek. "I did put a lot of thought into that card."

The joke served its intended purpose, because the doctor laughed and threw her arms around Jane once more. She'd thought finally being able to play the piece would be the victory, but with her arms around Maura, in the warmth of her embrace, Jane realized that this was the real reward.

Pressing a kiss against her temple, Jane whispered, "Happy birthday, Maura."

...


End file.
